Undefined Boundaries
by snorting chords
Summary: [Black Magician Trilogy] 'It is not the magic that is evil, but the user. There is no black and white.' Set thirteen years after 'The High Lord.' Full summary inside. SoneaAkkarin, OCOC, slight SoneaDorrien and some DannylTayend
1. Strange Alliances

**Summary: Fifteen years after the invasion of the Ichani, Kyralia has managed to put the past behind it. The city has been rebuilt, and even the slums are better off than they were before the Battle. Kyira, daughter of the Black Magicians, is set to become a Novice. Her mother Sonea is fearful that history will repeat itself but Kyira settles into her magical routine with ease. But when murders begin around the city once more, even Rothen and Dannyl cannot ease her fears. Kyira finds herself plunged into her mothers worst nightmare, and ends up finding much more than she ever thought possible.**

**_A/N: Okay, so this is basically a 'what happened next' story. It features all the old characters, including Dannyl, Rothen, Sonea and Dorrien. And also some new ones like Sonea's daughter Kyira and Dannyl's son Sayen. Ah yes, I know he is a lad, but all will be explained. I've retained some creative liscense at parts that some of you may not agree with but guess what? It's my story, so they are going to do what I say. Ha, I love power. Of course, I don't own any of the characters you recognise, or the world. I've just borrowed it for a while so please do not sue. Besides, I'm not making any money, so you really wouldn't get anything. I'm not very good with summaries, so I have tried to not give away too much of the story. Okay, now on with the story. _**

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It is said that in death everything becomes clear. A comforting sense of clarity settles over you and all the things that had not made sense in the past now come full circle. You understand the words that once confused you. The touches that threw your senses. Perhaps your mind hides these truths from you, or perhaps the Gods do. But at the end, you can see the beginning and the middle so clearly. 

For Akkarin this seemed true. He felt Sonea's hand slip away from his own and all his strength leave him. There was no pain, no exhaustion, nothing. His mind became a black void and his senses dulled. Then, suddenly and without his will, images began to invade this blackness. As High Lord, he was rarely confused of anything. His use of the magics others would call 'black' had heightened and sharpened his powers. He could easily slip past the defences of those who would confound him and read their mind to extract the truth. He tried not to resort to these methods but in dangerous times he had to do what he could to protect himself and the Guild. But despite all this, the simplest things still continued to defy him and create puzzles inside his mind. Perhaps his constant practice of magic had dulled what humanity he had in him, or perhaps he was never human. But he never could understand all those messy emotions others seemed to embrace so willingly. Until her.

Sonea. The image of her stopped, as if frozen in time. In a brief second he understood all the things that confused him. He understood her hesitation and uncertainty, her hatred and disgust and eventually her love. The images continued forwards and he smiled at her joy, felt sadness at her grief and felt longing at her desire. His heart broke as hers did, as they both realised this was the end for them. And then surprise took over as he felt that small pull of life inside of her. A child. _Their _child. Did she know this? Probably not, it had been so small that he barely acknowledged it. At once his questions stopped. He realised he would never see their child grow up. It saddened him and filled him with joy at the same time. He wouldn't see his child grow up, but at least it would. Safe with its mother in a world with no threat of war.

Everything disappeared and his mind went blank again. The black void returned, lightened only by the smallest sphere of light. This was his power, all that he had left. Not even enough to consume his body. No, he would have the same fate as those in the cemetery. He would have a grave, a tombstone and a coffin, no different from any other person in the city. Would they place his body next to Lorlen? Or would they scorn him and send his remains off someplace far away for what he had done? No, he doubted that very much. Despite the Guilds reluctance to accept that these Black Magics were in fact what saved them, even they could not escape the truth. They needed to learn this, to become what they had been taught to hate, if they ever stood a chance to survive the Ichani. Although they had lost this battle, the magicians would never give up their relentless pursuit of the Guild. He felt content that, if his death had done anything, it had been this. He had shown them what he knew all along. Magic was neither good nor evil. It was only the user that made it so.

But this could not be right. He could feel the brush of her lips against his, her tears fall upon his cheek. How could he still feel all this when he knew he was dead? Was this death? Still conscious of all around you, their grief, their sorrow? No, he must be stuck. Too broken to be alive but not enough to be dead. Time would soon take him anyway, and he could do nothing but lay there and wait for the end. Finally he felt her leave him once more, and he knew this time it was for good. She was broken inside; he could feel that even now in this void between life and death. But she would heal, at least enough to carry on. He felt pride in that, in the knowledge that Sonea would continue her life for him.

"Get to your feet."

A frown crossed his bloodied features as he heard the unfamiliar voice speak. Was he dead now? This must be the afterlife, he decided, looking around to find that the black void had vanished. Instead there was a plain room; much like the one Sonea envisioned her mind to be. A man stood in the centre, looking down at Akkarin. He looked Sachakan, although that must just be his interpretation of what he assumed was his guide. Testing his legs, he found that all the pain had gone and he could now stand. The man watched his actions with wary eyes, arms crossed over his chest.

"You do not know where you are, do you?" the man smirked, letting his hands drop down to his side. Small currents of magic flickered through his open fingers, chasing itself around both his hands. Akkarin frowned, feeling a small sense of dread trickle into his body. This surely was not normal.

"I was killed." Akkarin replied simply, bracing his palms against the side of his legs. He was not sure what was going on, but if this was a test of his magic ability, or a last fight, he was going to be ready. "I assume that this would be what comes after life." The man laughed at this, shaking his head with unconcealed amusement. Akkarin frowned again, looking around the room for some clue of where he was and what may have caused the Sachakan mans laughter.

"Such a foolish magician." The man replied in a soft voice, so soft Akkarin had to strain to hear him. "Are you sure that this is the right one?" As the man glanced down at his right hand, Akkarin followed his gaze. A red ring was resting on his finger, and it was at this that the mans attention was directed. The man nodded, obviously hearing something that he liked. Beckoning, he started out of the room.

"Come Akkarin. We have much to discuss."


	2. Sparring Partners

**A/N:** I know this has been a REALLY long time coming, and it's nothing dramatic or action filled yet but I was slowly easing back into it and I wanted to give you all something. I was intending this chapter to be longer but as I said, I wanted you all to have something to read. Thank you for all the encouragement and lovely reviews and I promise it won't be so long between chapters next time! I have great plans for this story, so hopefully you like the introduction to Cery, Sonea and her daughter. More to come I promise, so enjoy!

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The first thing that Sonea noticed as she opened her eyes was the lack of sunlight. The soft closing of the door woke her from her slumber, and she reluctantly opened her eyes, expecting to see Tania or Rothen standing by the doorway to her bedroom. It was only on second glance around her still dark room that she realized nobody was there. She let out a heavy sigh as she pushed herself on her hands, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She was getting used to being woken up before sunrise by the quiet slam of the door to her rooms. Sonea stayed still for a moment longer, closing her eyes to will the last of sleep away with a wistful smile before she pushed herself out of the warmth of the covers.

As she walked through the dark halls of the Magicians Quarters, Sonea pulled at the sleeves of her robes. Black robes, for a Black Magician. She still hated that term, even after all these years. There was nobody around at this time of the morning – it was still night time really – but it was hard for Sonea to forget the looks that she still got from her fellow magicians, and their visitors. Fifteen years had passed since the "Ichani Invasion" as the battle had been called. The Guild had accepted that the knowledge of Black Magic should be learnt, but only by one. They had to admit that Sonea and Akkarin had played a huge part in the defeat of the Ichani magicians and safe guard any future attempts, but the idea of allowing so many magicians to learn what they still viewed as evil magics wasn't something they had wanted to consider. Lord Balkan had discussed the Higher Magicians decision with her, making it known that she was part of the defence of the city and not an enemy but should not encourage people to believe it was an easy and wholesome thing. He explained the limitations, the inability to leave the Guild without a guard escorting her and restrictions about holding a position of power. All of that, she could deal with. More often than not it was Rothen assigned to escort her outside of the Guild grounds, and she enjoyed his company better than being alone. She had no desire to teach either, just make a difference and the Guild said nothing about using her powers for helping people in the more accepted way of Healing. It was the only reason she wanted to learn magic, to help people that needed it and the one thing that kept her hanging on for those first few months. But despite everything she could still feel people look at her like they were scared. Not that she blamed them. The destruction had been far and wide and good people had died. The color she wore reminded them of that every day. She would have been scared. At times she was.

But buildings had been rebuilt and if you took a walk around the inner city, it was hard to spot where the Ichani had caused such destruction. Graves had been dug and filled and memories of that day had slowly started to fade. For most people at least. It was harder for those who lost someone. Families had been destroyed that day, and although Sonea was proud of the Guild, at their ability to continue and thrive through all obstacles, there were some wounds that no amount of time could fix. Out, far beyond all the living quarters, where the oldest of magicians lay dead in the ground, more bodies had been added. Tombstones had been engraved with names and the same date and memories from the people left behind. It was strange for all the magicians to see their burial grounds used once again.

Hearing the light sounds of metal against metal, Sonea was drawn from her thoughts with a fond smile. She'd walked the grounds of the Guild so many times that she could do it with her eyes closed, deep in thought, although she never tested that theory. Leaning against the crumbling wall, she watched the two figures parrying in front of her in the clearing. Despite all the work that had been put into making the Guild new and fresh, heal the scars left by the battle, some parts of the grounds hadn't changed. The small clearing in front of Sonea, the path leading off to the stream that Dorrien had shown her… that hadn't changed.

Neither, it seemed, had Cery. Sword aimed at the lithe young figure in front of him, a smile touched his lips as he looked up to see Sonea.

"Don't give me that look." He laughed, lowering his weapon at least and offering a hand to the girl he had been sparring with.

"You mean the look of a worried mother?" Sonea said, narrowing her eyes at Kyira as she dusted off her knees before shooting her mother a dazzling smile.

"We were out here for ten minutes, absolute maximum." She reminded her mother, taking back the sword that Cry offered her. Sonea shook her head with a heavy sigh, though she couldn't help but smile as they turned their backs on her and went back to the sparring practise she had interrupted. They were used to this by now, and so was she. Ever since she was old enough to sneak out of the room without Sonea noticing, Kyira had been learning all the things the Guild thought to be outdated and archaic. It didn't surprise her, or Cery it seemed by how eager he had been to teach her. Occasionally Sonea would follow them down and watch, other times she would turn a blind eye. It had taken a lot of convincing to allow Cery to take her out so early in the morning – and alone – to teach her sword fighting, skills with all sorts of knives and even hand to hand combat. It wasn't that she didn't see the merit in it, but after everything that had happened, the thought of Kyira being so alone and without even magic to protect her worried Sonea more than she admitted to her daughter. When Rothen found out what Kyira was sneaking out to do, he tried his best to lessen her fears and convince her that she was in safe hands, despite sharing similar views with the rest of the Guild about its usefulness. But what mother didn't worry about their child?

Watching as Cery walked Kyira through another set of complicated moves that seemed effortless, Sonea found herself – and not for the first time – picking out all of the features that made Kyira… well, like him. She had the same pale skin of her mother, with that youthful glow and rosy cheeks from the autumn wind. Yet when she caught the sun, it would darken to a deep bronzed color that made Sonea think of a similar shade of skin, tanned by the heavy Sachakan sun and days of walking. Her hair was like his too, long, straight and dark, framing noble facial features. Beautiful of course, a perfect mixture of both Akkarin and Sonea. She never understood just how intense you could love somebody, how unconditional and overwhelming being a parent would be until she had been passed that tiny baby. She'd looked down and seen those deep grey eyes, his eyes, staring up at her with astonishment at the world she had been thrust into and sobbed. Out of sadness, for what she had lost and happiness, for what she had gained. Slowly her doubt had passed about her ability to do it all alone and she had settled into her new life as a mother and a Black Magician.

"Enough." Sonea called out firmly, motioning for them to stop and look up at the clearing sky. "You have to get ready." Kyira opened her mouth to protest, shooting a cursive glance at the rising sun but sighed and nodded.

"Fine." Came the sullen reply, and she handed the sword back to Cery.

"It's alright to be nervous." Sonea reminded her with a smile, brushing the loose strands of ebony hair back from her daughters face. Kyira let out a huff, pushing her mothers hand away and picking up the towel she had brought with her, wiping the sweat away from her forehead.

"I'm not nervous." She assured them both, shooting a look behind her at Cery. "I'm not!" He gave her a smile and a shrug, sheathing the sword at the hilt.

"You had better go and bathe. Nervous or not, you don't smell pleasant." Watching as Kyira stormed away, towards the direction of the baths Sonea noted gratefully, she felt Cery come up beside her.

"You're not supposed to tease girls like that Cery." She laughed, turning around to finally embrace her friend. "Don't you remember how tetchy they get?"

"Yes. But she's so like you when she storms off, it's worth it." Cery replied as they began walking back to the gates. The guards knew Cery, and his help in the war had been invaluable so he was welcome as a guest of the Guild, able to pass through the gates with relative ease. The early morning guards got used to seeing him and Sonea, so they barely turned their gaze towards them as they approached.

"How is she doing?" Sonea asked once they came to a stop, just out of earshot of the guards. Cery adjusted the swords in his grip, giving her a nonchalant shrug. She asked every time she caught their dawn practises, and the answer was always the same.

"Too good." Cery nodded, looking over to the guards with an idle smile.

"I'm going to have to come to see the two of you more. I enjoy watching her beat you." She laughed, placing a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else. "She has her fathers fighting spirit, and mine. What do you expect?" Pushing her hand away, Cery offered her a narrowed glare.

"I still have the victory. She isn't that good Sonea. But she will be." This last part was said with something of a wistful smile, and Sonea knew that through all their jesting he was proud of her. Both Rothen and Dorrien had taken on a father-like role with Kyira, helping out as much as Sonea would let them and trying their best to "provide a good example." It helped, and Sonea knew that Kyira would have less trouble settling in with her fellow students than she did. She had been raised with magicians and taught their airs and graces. But most of all, she had inherited more than fighting spirit. Disgraced or not, Akkarin was still part of the houses, and by blood so was Kyira. It eased her worries just a little to know that her daughter would not have to suffer through the same problems. Though not enough, as Cery could see from her gaze.

"She's going to be fine you know. She's a fighter." While Rothen and Dorrien acted as parents, Cery had become a friend to Kyira, teaching her the things that the magicians couldn't or wouldn't. She enjoyed her combat lessons a lot more than she had enjoyed the control ones and Sonea could appreciate the time of normalcy and unpressured enjoyment that Cery offered.

"I know." Sonea nodded, biting her lip. "I just… can't help it. It's hard enough you know."

"When is it ever not?" he offered, resting a light hand on her shoulder. "She's a strong spirit, she won't go wrong. And besides, even you got through it okay, so she's going to be fine." Sonea snorted at this lightly veiled insult, pushing at his shoulder.

"Get out of here." She laughed, leaning forwards to catch his cheek and kiss it briefly before pushing him away again. "And don't be late!"

"I gave my word." Cery promised, walking backwards towards to gates and shooting her a grin. "You can trust me, I'm a thief. "


End file.
